


Fledgling Rat

by Barb G (troutkitty)



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-04-06
Updated: 2001-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:19:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troutkitty/pseuds/Barb%20G
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baby!Rat meets YoungerLessCancerous!CSM. Angst and power struggles ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fledgling Rat

**Author's Note:**

> Cigarette Smoking Man, you know it's not going to be all hearts and roses, right? None of these boys are mine.

The agents looked younger and younger each year, or else he was feeling older. Scrubbed faces, intense eyes... from where he stood behind the one-way glass he could almost see them trembling with the desire to absorb everything.

Disgusting, actually.

He snubbed out his cigarette and lit up a new one. "Which one?" he asked, looking back to the man behind him. He was a big man, heavy without being fat. His hair was cut to military standards and his neck was as wide as his head. He had been so adamant about his role and his duty, the smoker took it as a personal challenge to make him sell out. He didn't need Special Agent Booker; he had the connections to go around the head of the academy and pick who he wanted, but it was more satisfying to make the man serve him up the strongest of the questionable agents.

"Him, that one," Booker said, motioning to the back of the classroom. The boy could have been a mirror image of Booker at that age, young, aggressive, thick. His blond hair was buzz-cut, and his pencil was almost dwarfed in his huge hands. He'd be ambitious enough to take the smoker's path.

The smoker pulled away from the window before Booker motioned again. "Or that one."

The smoker looked again. The new one was the opposite to the first; black haired to blond, slight instead of bulky. Nothing about him said he'd be corruptible. "What's his story?" the smoker asked.

"No one visits him. He doesn't go anywhere for weekends. He's smart, obviously, but works alone. He's not going to make it as an FBI agent without you, but I don't know if he'll suck your cock."

"Do you disapprove of my selection process?" the smoker demanded, coldly.

"If you want to turn your boys into fags, not at all."

"It's not about becoming homosexual, my dear Booker, it's about what you would do under orders," the smoker said. He kept his voice flat and disinterested. "Or for money."

Booker's neck muscles tensed; the smoker saw it in the reflection on the glass. He looked down to the file in his hand. "Alex Krycek," he read. He looked back up to the young man and felt a stirring in his blood. It had been a long time since he had felt anything inside him. He smiled and turned away. "Arrange a meeting," he said.

"For which one?" Booker asked.

"Both."

*

Alex put his book down to answer the door. The single reading light did little to light up the double room, but with the other half of the room empty, he felt better in the dark.

Agent Booker stood in the hall. It was too late to be for official purposes; Alex grasped that right away. "Sir?" he asked.

"Come with me," Booker snapped. Alex pulled back from the disgust in his voice, but was confused over what it was about.

"Sir?" he asked.

"Did you hear me?"

Alex closed the door behind him and followed, still in his sweats. Once it became clear that they were returning to the classroom it made him feel very underdressed, but Booker said nothing and the halls were empty.

"In there," Booker said, pointing to a door. Alex opened the door and stepped inside the darkened room.

He'd only been to one of the instructor's offices, and that was to ask a question about a wording of one of the homework assignments. It didn't feel like this. His stomach tightened once like he had been sent to the principal's office again for fighting. At least that was what it had been called. It had seemed pretty one-sided to him. He only started fighting back once it was clear the principal didn't give a shit why the fight had happened.

"Alex Krycek?" the man behind the desk asked. The room smelled of new smoke; the day-time occupant of the room obviously didn't partake.

"Yes, sir," Alex said.

"Sit down, Alex."

The use of his name made the hair on the back of his neck bristle, and he didn't understand why. He sat down.

"How are you finding your classes, Alex?"

Alex shrugged, but then decided the man wanted a real answer. "Fairly easy, sir," he said.

"Yes, your marks back are excellent. It is your team working ability that has the instructors worried."

"Worried, sir?" Alex asked. That was news to him. He had stuck to himself, but it hadn't been a conscious choice. The others didn't want him.

"Worried. Do you think working as an FBI agent is something you can do by yourself? You need a partner, Alex. A man to watch your back while you're watching his. I don't think you have that ability."

"I don't?" Alex asked. His voice was flat, cautious. He knew his studies were better than most, but they'd been warned since the beginning it was just one aspect.

"No, Alex, you don't. I don't think you have the ambition, either."

The anger started slowly in the pit of Alex's stomach. "Who are you to tell me that I don't have ambition?" he demanded.

Rather than upset the man, the smoker seemed almost pleased. "Do you have ambition?"

"Yes," Alex snapped.

"How much, Alex? What are you willing to do to get ahead?"

Warning bells went off in his head, and suddenly the room seemed warmer. "What do you want?" he asked, carefully.

"A small... what's the best word. Test. A small test of your ambition, Alex."

Alex narrowed his eyes. "What kind of test?"

The man smiled, lighting up another cigarette. "There is a member of your class. A Josh Drydell. Do you know him?"

Alex swallowed. Drydell was short, even more bookish than he was, and just as much a loner. He had tried to approach him in the first week of classes, but Drydell hadn't even wanted to attempt being friendly. "Yes."

"Good. I want you to get his next test disqualified. By whatever means you can."

Alex narrowed his eyes. "And if I do?"

The smoker smiled. "What do you think, Alex? I ask you to do me a favour, you will be rewarded. You will be taken care of."

"And if I don't?"

The smoker exhaled slowly. Alex waited, feeling his throat tighten. "You wouldn't want to disappoint us, Alex. That wouldn't be in your best interest."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Don't be obtuse, boy. Of course I am threatening you."

Alex shut his mouth and promised himself that he would never ask another stupid question.

"You are dismissed, Alex. Your next exam is at nine. I'll see you tomorrow."

Alex walked away. "Sleep well," the smoker called out, mockingly.

He didn't sleep well. The smoker saw to that. He was A Big Thing. Alex had spent his whole life looking for something to happen like him. The last thing he wanted was to be like everyone else, and the smoker had opened the door for him. He was kidding himself if he thought he wasn't going to do it.

He stopped trying to sleep; lying still was making his back hurt. He rolled onto his side and flipped open the textbook, but knew what was being asked of him was never going to need book knowledge.

By seven his skin was crawling. At eight, in the cafeteria, he cut the scrambled eggs until they were little grains of yellow. The industrial tasting margarine congealed on the cold toast. He had skipped the meat-product. The black coffee settled uneasily in his stomach and he filled up the Styrofoam cup again on the way out to the test.

Drydell was already there. Alex knew he would be. He sat down next to him. Drydell glanced to him, annoyed. He was the only person in the room with dozens of other tables.

He hadn't brought his texts with him. Drydell's were piled on his desk and under his chair. Drydell caught him looking, Alex smiled back. Drydell looked away, but looked back again. Alex continued to smile.

The test started. Alex glanced to him once when the test observer had looked away. Drydell pushed his chair back as he hunched forward and the test observer looked at him.

Drydell started to sweat. Alex looked up again, innocent, and glanced back to Drydell's paper. "Don't..." Drydell said, and the observer glared at him.

Alex moved his arm, exposing the first row of his answers. Drydell was obviously trying not to look at Alex's papers. He had even locked his neck muscles so he couldn't turn.

Alex leaned to his right, exposing more answers. Drydell glanced over just for a heartbeat and Alex scraped his chair back. The observer saw Drydell glancing and came to take his paper.

Drydell was a sport. It was just one zero and it wasn't worth making a fuss. He threw a glare at Alex and followed the observer out.

Alex finished his exam and handed it in without incident. The smoker was waiting for him in his room.

"You did it."

Alex nodded, and waited. The smoker threw him a printout and it fluttered to his feet. "What's this?"

"Your marks for the rest of the semester."

Alex glanced through them. They were all A's and A+'s. "You're expecting me to be impressed? I could have gotten these alone. I thought you said you would reward me."

"You haven't the call yet to be cocky, Alex," the smoker said, but then he smiled. "But your display was very impressive. Tell me, what would you have liked?"

"A night out. Get me out of this place."

The smoker seemed surprised. "Very well then. Come with me."

The restaurant was better than anything Alex had been to before, though he didn't let it show. The smoker only smiled and lit another cigarette. "Tell me what you want next, Alex. Theatre? A movie? Clubbing? Do you need a girlfriend?" the man said. Alex stared at him. "Boyfriend?" he continued.

Alex refused to blush. "Take me back."

"As you will."

Drydell was outside his room. "You fucked me over."

"Sorry."

"That's all you have to say?"

"What did you want to hear? You got caught."

"And you didn't. That makes it all right?"

Alex shrugged, unlocking his door. Drydell tried to grab him by the shoulder, but Alex knocked him back. "Don't ever touch me," he said.

"Or you'll do what, exactly?"

Alex grabbed him and threw him up against the wall. He'd never done anything so physical; it shocked him he knew exactly where to apply his weight. "Or you don't want to know," he said. It was almost a snarl. Drydell froze under him and Alex backed away. "Get out of here."

Drydell turned heel and ran.

Alex didn't want to go back to his room. He didn't want to sit down. He didn't want to study or to go work out or to do anything. He had to get out and went down for a walk along the compound.

He headed out, hunched over in his hooded sweatshirt. He heard rustling in the bush and saw the smoker come out behind the gym. He wasn't alone. One of Alex's classmates... Sam, his name was Sam... came up behind him. The smoker stopped and ran his hands through Sam's brush cut. Sam just wiped his mouth off and pulled away.

Alex stared. The smoker seemed to see him, even though Alex was still in the shadows, and he smirked.

Alex went back to the dorms, feeling numb.

The smoker left him alone for three days. Three days, and Alex thought he'd been forsaken. He continued his classes, but the lustre on it had dulled. When he finally got another message to meet with the smoker in one of the offices, he didn't know if he wanted to take it or not.

Of course, he wasn't truly convincing himself. He spent the last hour before the appointed time at the gym. He went to the office without showering.

The smoker knew it too. His nostrils flared as Alex entered the room. "When you come to me next time, Alex. You will wash yourself thoroughly."

"What makes you think there will be a next time?" Alex demanded.

The smoker smiled. "Did it give you pleasure to say that, Alex?"

Alex was silent. The smoker's smile widened. "Very good. You know what I want, don't you?"

Alex shook his head.

The smoker pushed back and his chair rolled away from the desk. "I think you do. I think you saw us, and I think you know what I want."

"Who was he?" Alex asked, morbidly.

"Your competition, Alex. I thought you would have figured that one out yourself. I only need one assistant this year."

"So I'm supposed to suck your cock 'cause he did?" Alex snapped.

"You're supposed to take my orders because he did, Alex. Come, it's not going to cost you anything but pride."

"Fuck you."

"Watch your language, Alex."

"Fuck that, too," Alex said and walked out.

The smoker didn't give him the rest of the night off. The knock on his door was less than six hours later. He struggled out of bed and forced himself to force his eyes open. "You're wanted," Dreywall said.

Alex followed him down to the same office he went to the night before. "Inside, close the door," Agent Booker said.

Alex stepped in alone. "We've been reviewing for file, Mr. Krycek. I don't think you are suitable material for the FBI. You understand, of course," he said. He stared at Alex like he knew about the smoker. He tried not to show it, but Alex felt the tips of his ears warm.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alex said.

"I think you do," Agent Booker said. His face was hard. Alex turned on his heels and left. He didn't run, but he couldn't control himself from slamming the door behind him.

He threw open his door and jumped as the smoker tapped off the ashes from his cigarette into Alex's water glass. "Bad news?" he asked, leaning back against Alex's bed.

"Don't act like you don't know," Alex snapped.

The smoker blinked. Alex found himself looking down. It was his first lesson in What Not To Talk About. "Are you here to pack or apologize, Alex?" the smoker said, snubbing out his cigarette.

Alex wanted to sneer, but his face couldn't do it. Pack, he wanted to say. Pack and get the hell out of here. Pack and... "Apologize," he said.

The smoker smiled and rubbed the front of his slacks. "Then come here and apologize, Alex. No time to be shy."

Alex opened his mouth to speak, but found he couldn't. He lowered his eyes and went to the bed, but he couldn't move. "Your suitcases are in your closet, Alex," the man said. "What do you want to do?"

Alex dropped down to his knees. He didn't know what to do and the smoker had to take himself out. He was disgusted to have to touch himself, but Alex didn't care. The man's dick was only five inches and it wasn't that particularly hard. Alex didn't move.

"Come, Alex," the smoker said. He guided Alex's head down and Alex didn't fight it. "Good boy."

He didn't expect the taste, bitter and salty. He didn't expect it to trigger his gag reflex either as the man forced him to put it back in his throat. He tried not to panic but he couldn't breathe.

"Relax, Alex, hasn't any pretty girl done the same to you?" the smoker asked.

Alex froze; it hadn't happened yet. The smoker laughed. "I see."

The personal information made him feel more dirty than the dick in his mouth. Alex tried to pull away but the smoker gripped onto his shoulders and wouldn't let him go. It seemed out of sheer will that the man came, and Alex fell back as the smoker suddenly released him. The man's sperm was thick and caustic in his mouth.

"Spit it out, Alex, and you are out of here," the smoker said, casually zipping up his pants.

Alex had come that far. The longer the semen sat in his mouth, the more disgusted he was. He paused, for a heartbeat, and swallowed it.

The smoker smiled and stood up. "You try me, Alex, I don't know why I put up with it from you. Any one else would be out on their ass long before this. You are going to have to try a lot harder in the future."

Alex looked up, disgusted. "Future?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. The future, Alex. This is just the beginning."

The door shut behind him. Alex sat back down against his dresser. Someone knocked at the door and before he could tell them to fuck off, the door opened again. It was Agent Booker. "Welcome back, Alex," he said, and closed the door behind him.

*

The next day, Alex took special care not to let his face betray him, but the classes no longer were important, and he knew it. It was difficult to concentrate so he stopped trying. He even got up and walked out of his last Friday class.

The smoker was waiting for him. He knew it before he pushed open the door, but this time the man wasn't waiting by himself. Sam, the blond, was with him. Alex hung back. "What do you want?" he asked.

The smoker smiled and ruffled Sam's hair. Sam didn't flinch from it. The smoker turned him around and pushed him down. Sam dropped to his knees in front of him without fighting. The smoker didn't look away from Alex as he put two fingers into Sam's mouth. Sam sucked on them obediently.

Alex didn't move. The smoker kept it up for another minute, and then sent Sam on his way.

"Am I supposed to have a turn on your thumb now?" Alex asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

The smoker wiped his fingers on a shirt Alex had on his bed. "I don't think so, Alex. I can't figure you out. I thought Sam would be a tougher nut to crack than you were, but he broke at the snap of my fingers," the man said, demonstrating. Alex didn't flinch. "And you didn't."

Alex put his lips together and waited. "It disgusts you and you still do it. You hate me, but you still obey. I can't decide if you are going to be worth the trouble or not, Alex."

"Worth the trouble for what?" Alex snapped.

The man blinked. "World domination, obviously. Now, can you drop down to your knees and convince me that you really want to blow me or shall I put a bullet in your brain and be done with it?"

"You're not going to kill me," Alex said.

"I will. You're in, Alex, or at least you're one of two. You can't escape this, you can't decline it any more. You either obey me in all things or you die. It's your choice."

Alex glared at him, for a heartbeat, and then dropped down to his knees and viciously pulled the man out. He heard the smoker hiss, but then say nothing about it. Alex jerked the man off with his hand, not attempting anything more than the head in his mouth. The smoker tried not to respond to it, but he couldn't stop his hips from moving with the motion.

Alex swallowed the shit in his mouth and stood up. It only made the smoker smile. "There it is again. Such defiance in you, Alex. Don't lose that, or at least, not quickly. Let me play with it until it tires me."

He had already swallowed the semen, so he turned his head and spat on the floor. It only made the smoker laugh. "Pretty little Alex. So angry."

"Are we done here?"

"Yes, Alex, we are done here. Send Sam back in when you go."

Alex left. Sam was waiting outside the door. "He wants you," Alex said. Sam didn't answer him.

The next morning, Sam woke him up, standing over his bed. Alex groaned, he hadn't slept well the night before, and he closed his eyes. He was just going to stop locking his door. "What?" he demanded.

Sam didn't say anything. He was too silent for too long before picking up the pillow Alex had thrown down during the night. Sam's face was too smooth, too calm. Alex jumped out of the way just as Sam tried to smother him with it. Alex pushed him back, but Sam kept after him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Alex snapped, but kept his voice down to a soft whisper. This didn't involve any one else, he understood that, and the walls to the bedroom were too thin.

"Trying to kill you," Sam said. He picked up the lamp and brought it down, but Alex ducked out of the way again.

He didn't want to, but self-preservation took over. Sam was bigger than he was, but only learned how to fight in the gyms. Alex gouged Sam's eyes with his thumbs. Sam howled, clawing at his face and dropped to his knees. Alex kneed the back of his shoulder blades and pinned the man to the floor. "Are you a fucking moron?" he asked.

The door opened again. The smoker walked in. "Go ahead, kill him," he said.

Alex shook his head. "No way."

"Kill him or he'll kill you, Alex."

Alex stood up. Sam staggered to his feet behind him. "I'm not going to kill anyone," he said.

The smoker held out his hand and Sam went to it. For a heartbeat it almost looked like the smoker cradled him, and then Sam was pushed out the door. "You play by my rules, Alex. Never forget that."

Alex tightened his jaw. The smoker left without saying anything else.

Alex quit going to classes. There was no point. No one called him on it or asked him about it. It was as though he didn't exist any more. The smoker avoided him, and he avoided Sam, so he went three days in the middle of Langley without seeing anyone.

He went to Agent Booker's room the third night. "Is something wrong, Alex?" the man asked.

"Agent Booker, I..." Alex began, but ran out of words. He stared down at his sneakered feet. He almost didn't see the man's face soften.

"Get out of here, Alex. Pack your bags and go. Disappear. You never existed."

"I don't exist now," Alex said.

"Then it won't be too much of a change for you. Get out of here."

Alex nodded. He turned around and left.

The click of a safety met him once he walked into his room. He raised his hands out of reflex. "On your knees."

Alex froze. "No."

"On your knees or I'll blow your brains out, pretty boy."

"You'll blow my brains out on my knees, too."

That stopped Sam for exactly two seconds. "He said I could fuck you before you die."

Alex swallowed. "That's not going to happen."

"What's to stop me?" Sam demanded.

"Necrophilia."

Sam was right behind him, breathing heavily. Alex leaned against him and the gun shifted from the base of Alex's skull to his shoulder. "Don't fight," Sam said.

Alex shook his head. He reached behind him rubbing against Sam's groin, while shifting up so that the gun was off him. Sam sighed, almost panting, and then Alex twisted the testicles in his hand.

The gun went off, but it must have had a silencer because the spitting sound was hardly enough to wake his neighbours. The bullet thudded into the wall. Alex elbowed Sam in the throat, hard, and Sam gurgled once and dropped like a sack.

Alex stepped back, kicking the gun away, but Sam was unresponsive. The door opened, Alex knew who was standing behind him without turning around. "He's dead," the smoker said.

Alex didn't look around. "How do you know?" he asked. He didn't look away from the body. It was a body; it hadn't moved since its hand bounced once as it landed. Alex was going to throw up.

The smoker shut the door behind him. And locked it. Alex turned around like he'd been shot. "Take off your clothes, Alex."

"No."

The smoker moved, throwing him against the wall. Alex fought back, but the smoker's elbow was against Alex's throat in the next heartbeat. He couldn't breathe. The man's suit scratched his chin.

"Take off your clothes or I'll have two bodies to remove, Alex. You can do this willingly or you can do this forced. Which one do you think is going to hurt less?"

Alex closed his eyes. The smoker began tugging at Alex's shirt. "No," Alex said. "Let me."

"Good boy, Alex. Very wise choice."

Alex squeezed his eyes shut. He pulled off his shirt himself. After that it didn't matter. The smoker used lube and didn't tear him up too much, but it still hurt. He stared and faced the wall. He didn't want to turn around and see the dead body or the smoker grunting over him. He didn't grunt very long. By the time he finished, Krycek hardly felt anything at all.

The smoker only laughed. "It only hurts once, Alex, dying inside. Trust me."

"Krycek."

"What was that, Alex?"

"My name is Krycek," Krycek said.

"See? What did I say," the man said. He ruffled Krycek's hair and walked out the door.

The End


End file.
